HFIL's Kitchen
by nedthejanitor
Summary: Chef Jordan Gatsby has faced daunting challenges before in his show Hell's Kitchen, but how will he cope when this year's 16 contestants consist of people like Goku and Vegeta! Find out in this quest to determine the best chef in DBZ!
1. Prologue

(**Bold: Narration)  
**(Regular: Description, present dialogue)  
_(Italics: Flashback/Preview)  
**(Bold Italics: Contestant Interview Section)**_

**Sixteen contenders…**

"_Vegeta, why won't you work with me?!" "Because you can't even cook ramen, Kakarot!"_

…**three weeks…**

"_Who in the fuck peeled these shrimp?! They look like someone put them in a paper shredder and got cold feet halfway through!"_

…**for celebrity chef Jordan Gatsby…**

"_That's a banana! What are you doing?! Stop cooking the fucking banana! Where did you even get one of those?!"_

…**to turn one of these amateurs…**

"_Hercule, please stop trying to fly! You're hurting yourself!" "I'm hurting my team by not flying!"_

…**into a chef worthy of the grand prize…**

"_250,000 zenie and a chance to cook at- no, you know what, none of you fuckers can cook at my restaurant. Money, and that's it."_

…**but it may just be…**

"_I shit you not, if you ever use your fucking energy beams to cook anything again, I will make you watch as I burn the grand prize one zenie at a time!"_

…**too difficult…**

"_FUCK YOU!" "NO, FUCK YOU!" "NO, FUCK YOU!"_

…**for the contestants to handle…**

"_If you had an ounce of cooking skill for every fucking stupid thing you've said, I swear to God, I'd retire and let you run all my fucking restaurants!"_

…**there will be drama…**

"_Get off that stupid floating crystal ball and fight me, bitch!" "I will yank each and every blue hair out of your head, you couldn't even handle me!"_

…**fury…**

"_GET OUT!" "GET FUCKED!" "HEY! YOU! TAKE YOUR JACKET OFF AND FUCK OFF!"_

…**tears…**

"_I didn't… I didn't know we were supposed to put salt on the stupid scrambled eggs!"_

…**and even romance…**

"_I love you, 18… oh, shit… I love you so much…" "I know, you crazy drunk bitch. I know."_

…**this…**

"_I need to puke!"_

…**is HFIL's Kitchen!**

()()()

**It's early in the morning and HFIL's Kitchen's maître d', Justin, is on his way to announce to the first of sixteen contestants that they have been chosen to appear on HFIL's Kitchen. **

Justin looks up from his directions to see a run-down looking shack well outside the city limits of South City. "This shithole is where Yamcha lives now?" Justin said quietly to himself. "Poor bastard. I guess beggars really can't be choosers."

Sighing and shaking his head, Justin knocks on the door. "Come in!" he hears from inside, followed by coughing.

Justin opens the door, but doesn't step in. "Yamcha?"

"That's me!" Yamcha appears in the doorway quickly, scaring the shit out of Justin. "Are you here about my package or has my order arrived yet? Ha ha! A little sex humor."

"That's nice, Yamcha," Justin says in a voice that sounds like it clearly wasn't nice. "Is your cat, Puar, here?"

()()()

**Justin successfully informed Puar that she would appear on HFIL's Kitchen. Next stop: Goku.**

"Yes, who is this?" Chi-Chi asks from behind the door. "What do you want this early in the morning?"

"This is Justin. You remember me from other such classics as-"

"You're that jerk from Court and Jeopardy! We're not interested!"

Justin is quick to insist that she is. "I'm here on behalf of HFIL's Kitchen!"

Chi-Chi stops her trip back to her bedroom. "You're hosting that too?! I never would have applied if I'd known that!"

"I'm not hosting, Chef Gatsby still is! I'm just in as the maître d'."

Finally, Chi-Chi opens the door and gives a little smile, crossing her arms. "Well, I'm happy at least someone recognized my cooking skills. Goku… I swear, that man never appreciates how much I do for him."

Inwardly, Justin is cringing as hard as a man could. He is going to absolutely hate what he is about to do. "Chi-Chi… I'm so sorry…"

"What? Why? I'm very happy to hear about this, I can't wait to tell Goku-"

"Goku… was the one who got accepted."

Chi-Chi looks at Justin as if all of his teeth just fell out through his nose. "…Pardon?"

"Goku is going to be on HFIL's Kitchen. Would you please go and tell him for me?"

"No."

"Okay, can I come in and do it?"

"No. NO! Prove it to me that he was picked instead of me!"

Justin shakes his head. Shit really was about to go down. He shows the roster of contestants to Chi-Chi, not wanting to give it to her because of fear of what she'd do to it.

"How could my husband be picked?! Be right back, I'll tell him something all right!"

()()()

**After sitting through a heated argument between Chi-Chi and Goku, which Goku didn't really participate in because it never matters what his wife says anyway, Justin set off for his next destination: the apartment of Krillin's former girlfriend, Maron!**

"Room 117… 119… 12? Oh, I guess the '1' must have fell off." Justin puts his show roster back in his pocket. "Geez, another shithole. Poor Maron. Ahem…" Justin knocks on the door, and a large burly man with a beard answers a minute later. "Who're you?"

"Yes, hello, is this the location of Maron Byars?"

"Yeah. What you want with my wife?"

"She's been accepted into HFIL's Kitchen. Could you let her talk to me?"

The huge bearded guy scratches his head. "Uh, she's in the shower right now. I'll just let her know myself-"

"Who's there? Oh, it's you, from Jeopardy!"

Maron, whose years in the sticks haven't changed her figure, runs over in nothing but a towel. "Is this about the kitchen show I applied for?"

"Erm, yes, it is. Please dress."

()()()

**After being copiously threatened by Maron's psycho husband named Throttle, Justin was getting quite tired of having to deal with angry people. Unfortunately, his next destination was like some sort of anger… dome! It was Capsule Corp. It was Vegeta.**

"No!"

"Oh, come on, Vegeta!"

"I said no!"

Justin is whining through the intercom, attempting to get the recalcitrant Vegeta to agree to be on the show. If the man were a little more intelligent, he might try something besides "pretty please." But it worked on his mom, so why not Vegeta?

"Bulma! Get in here!" Vegeta finally screams after Justin continues his pleading too long for comfort. Silence, and then footsteps. "What is it, Vegeta?" "This annoying man from Jeopardy is trying to get me to be on some god damn cooking show!" "Well, yes, I applied you for that show. Hold on, you won?! That's great!" "WOMAN!" "Oh, chill, Vegeta, you need to get out more often anyway! All the gravity room time you're spending is killing your complexion!" I've already told you, I can't possibly tan! It's against my genes!"

Justin suddenly gets a massive burst of inspiration. "Vegeta, I forgot to mention, Goku's going to compete."

Silence. Then the sound of the gate unlatching. "Get in here."

()()()

**So Justin's quest to inform contestants continued on. His next stop would be at the Kame House, except for one problem…**

"Now how the fuck are we going to do this?" Justin asks his unnamed driver, who just shrugs. They both stare at the seemingly endless expanse of an ocean where, in the middle, Roshi's island is located. "I don't suppose you have one of those James Bond cars that can turn into a boat?"

"'Fraid not, mac."

"Shit. Well, it looks like I'm going to have to inform Chef Gatsby I'll be needing a charter plane or some shit to get over this ocean."

Justin skips a pebble across the water. A pebble which hits Android 18, who was swimming to the shore for exercise, in the forehead.

"18?!" Justin is shocked. "What the fuck?!"

"I could ask you the same thing!" 18 yells. "I thought I was rid of you after going on Jeopardy!"

"I'm with Hell's Kitchen!"

()()()

**18 may have been an easy catch, but Justin might find himself in a little more trouble with…**

"Tien?!" Justin yells for what is probably the fiftieth time that day. "Where in the fuck are you?!"

"Sir," his exasperated nameless driver sighs, "this is the fourth abandoned cabin we've explored. Maybe we need to ask Goku where he-"

"Not a goddamned chance," says Justin. "When I say I'm going to find a guy, I'm going to do it without any help. And I don't fuck around."

"So doesn't that mean you don't want my help either?"

"…Oh, fuck me."

"Now you're sounding like Chef Gatsby!"

Tien, meanwhile, stands by a giant rock and stares at the two bizarre people who've been screaming his name for the last five minutes. "What in the hell are they doing… and what do they want with me?"

"Maybe you should go talk to them…" Chiaotzu whispers.

"I don't really want to. I mean, just look at them."

"They can't hurt you."

"Yeah, true. At least, not physically."

"I guess."

()()()

**So Justin successfully procured Tien after a little more meandering. But when he read the next entry on his list, his feet suddenly got very cold. Cold as Ice, even… **

"Great, we have to pick fucking Launch up," Justin groans as he turns down the song on the radio, "Cold as Ice" by Foreigner. "I just hope to God she's got blue hair when we see her."

"Why?" Justin's driver asks. "Is she ugly when she's got any other color hair?"

"She's a psycho bitch who will kill you if her hair turns blonde."

The driver looks bemused, to say the least. "Uh… turns blonde? If she dyes her hair, she-?"

"No, no. Look, you'll know soon enough. Just keep driving."

**Soon, they arrived at the prison where Launch was, and found her cell where they saw her hair was…**

"What do you idiots want?!" Launch snaps the very second she sees them. She recognizes Justin from his Court/Jeopardy days.

"It's nice to see you too, Launch," says Justin facetiously. "You've been invited to participate in the newest season of Hell's Kitchen."

Launch looks at Justin oddly. "I don't remember ever applying."

"It was probably the blue-haired you. Look, you get out of jail for a little while if you do this, whaddaya say?"

()()()

**Now it was time for maître d' Justin to face his most dangerous challenge yet. He was going to face the horrible pink monster that, long ago, threatened to devour the entire planet. No, not Patrick Star; Majin Buu!**

"Now I wish we were back trying to get Launch again," Justin groans.

"Are you scared? I am too," says the driver.

"Yeah…"

In reality, Justin is not scared. He knows Fat Buu is a reformed hero and no harm is going to be dealt. What he is, however, is immensely frustrated. He knows how stupid Majin Buu is. It is going to be a goddamned miracle if he can even convince the creature he isn't ice cream.

He knocks on Hercule's door. "At least we can knock out two contestants this way. Hercule's going to be on the show too."

"If he accepts," the driver added.

Justin would have responded to that comment, but someone answering the knocked door rudely interrupted him. What nerve! "Yes, who is this?"

"I'm here on behalf of Hell's Kitchen. May I speak to the Champ?" Justin could have thrown up on those last two words. That is, had he not taken some ipecac right before and got it all out.

"Ah, Master Hercule? I will see if I can ask him."

So Justin waits, foot tapping, arms crossed, until Hercule shows up at the door in a bathrobe. Justin hasn't seen legs that hairy since his days in dog grooming. "What?"

"You and pinky will be on Hell's Kitchen."

"…Patrick?"

()()()

**The next contestant on Justin's list turned out to be even harder to talk to than either Hercule or Majin Buu!**

"No," says the now elderly Mai firmly. Her cohort, Shu, stands sagely by and nods. He, too, is elderly.

"Oh, why the hell not?" Justin whines. "It's for just a few days!"

"No."

"Why did you even apply to the fucking show if you didn't want to be on it?!"

Mai uncrosses her arms and places her hands on her hips. "I didn't apply for the show!"

Justin takes out a scrap of paper. "Then what the hell is this?!"

The evil minion gazes at the paper. "This is the Emperor's handwriting!"

Speaking of the Emperor, his voice comes from the nearby bathroom. "Is that the Hell's Kitchen guy?! Mai, Goku's going to be on that show, I need you to compete against him."

"How do you know that?!"

"Vegeta! We're facebook friends!"

()()()

**Next, Justin traveled to Nikki Town to talk to a former competitor in the World Martial Arts Tournament!**

"148. This is the place." Justin looks at the door of the place. "I bet I've seen more ratty-ass looking apartments than the cops. Oh, well."

He knocks on the door and hears a smoky voice call out abruptly from the other side. "What?"

"I'm here from Hell's Kitchen. Is this Ranfan I'm talking to?"

Nothing. Then some light footsteps. Then some not so light footsteps. By the time Justin is prepared, Ranfan answers the door. To say the least, the years have been… rather nice to her. Her voice may now be a little cigarette-y, but her body is mostly in shape. What has changed- or perhaps was always that way- is her disposition.

"What now?" Ranfan asks. "I didn't get that. Sorry about how I'm dressed."

She clearly isn't, leaning toward Justin in her paper-thin white gown. Justin keeps his eyes glued to hers. It seems almost like she's become accustomed to getting everything she owns through seduction. "You've been invited to participate in the next season of Hell's Titchen. Right, Kitchen, I meant."

"Oh!" Ranfan looks embarrassed. "Sorry, I've been expecting a pizza. Sure, I'd love to join."

()()()

**When Justin realized he had to go back to Master Roshi's island, he was frustrated. But not as much as when he met Roshi on the shore miles away and caught a ride on his turtle!**

"Yeah, Roshi, they have boats and everything nowadays!" Justin explains on the slow, horrible trip. The driver clings desperately to his boss's hips, even more miserable than Justin could muster.

"Hey, look, I've got this turtle, I'm gonna use him!" Roshi explains. "What do you need to visit my island for anyway?"

"I need to have a talk with your pig."

"Well, she's probably out with Krillin right now, so-"

"Not Android 18, geez!" Justin is astonished by Roshi's rudeness, though he know he shouldn't be. "Besides, I've already talked to her. I need to talk to Oolong!"

"Oolong? Why would anyone want to talk to that?"

Justin shrugs. "He was picked to be on the next season of Hell's Kitchen. I don't really know why."

"Never heard of it!"

**More trouble popped up when Justin tried to convince Oolong to join the cast.**

"For the last time, Oolong, no. You won't be forced to cook any pork on the goddamn show."

Oolong keeps his piggy arms crossed. "I want no pork on the show. Or else no go."

"Fucking hell, dude."

()()()

**Nearing the end of his contestant roster, Justin headed over to a secluded desert area for a talk with a legendary fortuneteller.**

"Baba, congratulations!" Justin exults the second he catches sight of Fortuneteller Baba. "You've been invited to participate in Hell's Kitchen!"

Baba looks at the guy with pleasant surprise all over her face. "Oh! That's nice to hear. When will it start?"

Justin hands the elderly lady some papers. "These will come in handy for that info. Can I ask you a favor?"

"What?" Baba looks somewhat more reluctant. "Is it about money?"

"No, not particularly. It's about transportation. Without your help, or someone else's, I can't get to the next three contestants."

Baba looks confused. "Who are the other three contestants?"

"Uh, let's see…" Justin looks at his roster to double check his facts. "Yajirobe, Piccolo and Princess Snake."

"What?!" Baba stares at Justin for some hint of irony. "How could they even get on a cooking show?! What do they know… wait, who's Princess Snake?"

"Long story."

()()()

"…and that's why we need you to help us with your Instant Transmission powers."

**Justin, with the help of Baba, made it quickly back to Goku's house to discuss further travel plans.**

"Hmm…" Goku puts his hand on his chin. "I don't know if I want to abuse my powers like that.

Justin immediately kindles- or so he thinks- to what Goku is trying to do. "Okay, what is it you want?'

Goku looks confused. "What?"

"Yeah. You want a favor right? A radio in your room? Immunity from elimination for the first few episodes? Permission to skip punishment challenges?"

The driver taps Justin on the shoulder while he's speaking, but Justin's too wrapped up in his "negotiations" to notice. The driver knows Chef Gatsby's not actually going to grant any of those things. All Justin's doing is throwing a bunch of empty promises out on the floor.

"Look, I have connections. I can get you whatever you need, no problem. We need your Instant Transmission skills if the show's going to have enough contestants. What do you say?"

Goku stands up. "If it means that much to you, I'll do it."

"Okay, awesome! What do you want in return?"

"Nothing…"

Justin lets out a massive sigh of relief. "That's good, because I couldn't actually get you any of that stuff."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Okay. Let's go!"

Justin lays his hand on Goku's shoulder. Baba does likewise with Justin's shoulder. Before the driver even realizes what was going on, the three of them all disappear.

()()()

"AAH!" Korin hollers when he turns around on his lookout to find Goku, Baba and Justin standing there.

**The trip to Korin's Tower was successful. But will their trip bring results?**

"I really hate it when you do that to me, Goku!" Korin says with rebuke, before his voice immediately relaxes and turns to normal. "What'ya want, anyway? Is the earth already being threatened again and you need more senzu beans?"

"Nope," says the always cheery Goku. "We came here to see Yajirobe!"

"Yajirobe?!" laughs Korin. "Seriously? I never thought I'd see the day where Yajirobe got a visitor." At last, Korin notices Justin standing around behind Goku. "What's the Jeopardy guy doing here?"

"Yajirobe has a spot on this season of Hell's Kitchen," Justin explains. "That's why we're here in the first place."

"Okay… but why's Baba here?"

"How rude!" Baba jumps off her crystal ball. "For your information, I am here to help these two into the Other World to talk to-"

"Already bored!" Yajirobe says at the top of the stairs. "What's going on up here? We're all out of senzu beans!"

Justin gives Yajirobe a manila envelope. "Congratulations, you've won a spot in Hell's Kitchen! Lucky bastard."

()()()

"Piccolo!" Goku cups his hands over his mouth and yells. "Get down from there! You have a visitor!"

Piccolo grumbles a non-specific wisp of disapproval and floats slowly down, getting out of his meditative posture. "What is it?"

Justin steps forward. Piccolo recognizes him. "Is this going to be something stupid?"

"Well, that depends on your definition."

"So, yes," Piccolo responds. "Just make it quick."

"You've been accepted to appear on the show Hell's Kitchen. Not sure why, but yeah."

Piccolo grunts again. "I don't even know what that is! How could I be 'accepted'?"

"It's very simple, Piccolo," Mr. Popo speaks up, having come seemingly out of nowhere. "I'm tired of being the only one who can cook around here."

"That again?!" Piccolo snaps. "I don't even eat anything!"

"Come on now, Piccolo," says Mr. Popo, his cherry red smile only pissing Piccolo off even further. "All you ever do anymore is float up there and meditate! This will be a fun experience for you."

Justin chortles; Mr. Popo sounds like Piccolo's overbearing dad right now. This fact is not lost on Piccolo as he crosses his arms and bares his teeth. "Listen, you don't tell me what to-"

"If you don't go, I'm going to walk around on the lookout with no shirt on."

The idea of Mr. Popo's pancake nipples- yes, he had seen them before- is enough to turn Piccolo's stomach. "You drive a hard damn bargain."

"Darn right I do," says the black- erm, genie guy. Whew, avoided some uncomfortable territory.

Piccolo faces away from Mr. Popo. On one hand, he hated being forced. On the other, pancake nipples…

()()()

**With Piccolo's agreement to be on Hell's Kitchen, there was only one contestant left to inform. But they would have to go where most people die before they can go- to the Other World.**

"Okay, we have to make this quick," Baba whispers to the group in front of Princess Snake's castle. "It won't take King Yemma very long to find out you're all here."

"Yeah, that's cool," Justin says, preoccupied with looking up and down snake-way. He looks at it the same way a huge Elvis fan looks at Graceland- a monument of sorts.

A blue-skinned woman soon walks from the front entrance to greet them. "Hello! Oh, my, Goku, is that you?!"

"Yep!"

"Oh, Princess will be so delighted! Come in, all of you, rest your feet for a little while."

The inside of the castle looks no different from Goku's visit, and neither do the people. "Goku!" the Princess exclaims upon seeing him. "It's been too long!"

"You two catch up later, I have to be back in an hour," Justin jumps in. "Princess Snake, you're in Hell's Kitchen."

"YES! OH FUCK YES!"

()()()

**And so, the sun rose on another day- the day Hell's Kitchen begins! 16 aspiring chefs will compete in an attempt to be Chef Jordan Gatsby's next protégé! **

A black bus pulls up to the entrance of Hell's Kitchen and all 16 contestants exit.

_**"I still don't know why I'm doing this nonsense," says Vegeta. "But if Kakarot is going to compete, so will I. That low class dog needs to learn his place."**_

**While some contestants are not so impressed, others…**

"THIS IS AMAZING!" shrieks Princess Snake as they all stand outside the entrance. "I've been dreaming about this for so long!"

_**"I've been a fan of this show since 2006," she says. "To be on the show will be such an amazing experience!"**_

_**"That snake woman needs to stop screaming," says Piccolo. "I feel like ripping my ears out, and that's no hollow threat; I've done it before."**_

Suddenly the contestants hear a voice over the intercom… "Attention, chefs!"

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	2. Day 1, Signature Dishes Part 1

**Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and Hell's Kitchen are not owned by me.**

**(Bold: Narration)  
**(Regular: Description, present dialogue)  
_(Italics: Flashback/Preview)__  
**(Bold Italics: Contestant Interview Section)**_

_Suddenly the contestants hear a voice over the intercom… "Attention, chefs!"_

**The contestants haven't even entered Hell's Kitchen yet, and Chef Gatsby already has some choice words for them…**

"This is Jordan Gatsby," says a grainy yet unmistakable voice over an intercom, "welcome to Hell's Kitchen."

**"_He sounds like a real pushover with that accent," says Vegeta. "I bet I can win this just by scaring the fool."_**

**"_He sounds like a real wuss with that accent," says Hercule. "I bet I can win this just by scaring the pipsqueak. HA HA HA HA!"_**

"Starting from this second, you have 45 minutes to cook me a dish that you feel best represents you on a plate. Right, off you go then."

"…Shit!" most of the contestants snap as they scramble to get in the kitchen to figure out what they'll make.

**The chefs have only 45 minutes to cook the best dish they've ever made. And while some of the chefs are feeling confident…**

"Ha ha ha ha…" Baba laughs over a sizzling skillet. "He should just give me the grand prize right now…"

**…others…**

"Owwie!" Goku whines. He blows on his burned left had to cool it off.

**…are feeling the heat!**

**"_I burned my hand while making my food," chuckles Goku. "But it's fine, it only hurt for about a minute!"_**

"You say you had it in the skillet for how long?" the medic stares incredulously. "A full minute?"

"Yep!" Goku says cheerfully. "I was leaning there, and then I remembered you are not supposed to do that! Can you please be quick, I really need to finish!"

"Jesus Christ…" the medic says quietly. "Okay, sir, this will just take two or three minutes."

**"_Ha ha…" Vegeta says. "I knew as soon as Kakarot burned his hand I had this won."_**

"Hurry up, now, chop chop!" Chef Gatsby urges over the intercom. "You only have three minutes to go!"

"Three minutes?!" Maron squeaks. "Oh, no, what will I do?!"

**"_That didn't leave me any time to do my make-up," pouts Maron. "This sucks! Chef Gatsby's going to think I'm a total mutt!"_**

**"_Maron's all style and no substance," Android 18 deadpans. "I saw what she was cooking. She's going to be completely fucking reamed."_**

"One minute to go! Start plating now!" Gatsby shouts over the loudspeaker.

**Any chef who goes over the time allotted by Chef Gatsby is automatically disqualified. This leaves some chefs…**

"Shit!" yells Mai. "Microwave faster! Shit shit shit!"

**…in serious trouble.**

"Oh dear," Launch whispers, "please let this be right."

Meanwhile, in the other kitchen: "Fucking bullshit!" Vegeta yells, striking the plate with his fist. He only had five seconds left.

**"_Yeah, I burned my stupid fuckin' dish!" Vegeta barks. "That's what I get for deciding to use the stove instead of just heating it with an energy wave!"_**

**"**_**Vegeta was pissed," Tien adds. "I can't say I'm surprised, though- I've pretty much never seen him not angry. I have a feeling he and Chef Gatsby are going to go toe-to-toe."** _

"Time's up!" Sous Chef Scott- one of Gatsby's trusty assistants at Hell's Kitchen- yells to punctuate the ringing of an egg timer. "Every dish not plated will be disqualified."

**Fortunately, all the dishes- even the incomplete ones, such as Vegeta's- were plated and put under a dome.**

Chef Gatsby comes into the kitchen with little fanfare. The blame for this falls upon lazy maître d', Justin, who is busy picking his nose in a corner. Chef gives him a stern, reproachful gaze until he finally looks up and notices the man. "Oh! Uh, now introducing, Chef Jordan Gatsby!"

Justin starts a brief clapping spell that's more of a formality than anything. This does little to ease the Chef's already piqued temper. "Would you mind not being so rude next time, picking your nose in my restaurant?"

"Sorry, chef," Justin says without pause.

"Do you want to be the first one out of Hell's Kitchen?"

"Erm, I'm not really a contestant…"

"I meant, smart arse, do you want to be fired?"

"No, chef."

"Then get a fucking grip!"

"Yes, chef."

Outwardly, Justin looks shamed. But inside, he celebrates- the first person to get "Gatsbyed" and it was him!

"Okay," Gatsby begins, turning to the contestants, "before we begin, I want all the men and their dishes on this side," he gestures to his right, "and the women on the other. Chop chop!"

**"_Geez, it felt like elementary school," grumbles Ranfan. "'Girls over here, boys over there…'"_**

"Men, you will all be one team, and you'll be competing against the women," explains Gatsby. "Is that clear?"

"Yep!" Goku says for the whole group. Gatsby wants a 'yes, chef' from each team, but decides to save that for dinner service. "Okay. This is your first challenge; whichever team has the better signature dishes wins this challenge. Will Android 18 from the women's team and Buu from the men's team step forward and present their dishes, please?"

18 and Buu obeyed quickly.

**"_Buu happy!" says Android 18. Just kidding, it was Buu. "Buu think dish turn out great!"_**

"Whoa! Jesus," Chef says as he gets a good look at the pink monster. "what's with that penis growing out of your head? And those holes, my God, man, are you okay?"

"Buu born this way, Chef," Buu states articulately in his own defense. "Well- not really, but-"

"Fuck me, man, and your voice! It's like if Mary downed a tank of helium!"

**"_I felt like I'd already won when Chef Gatsby started laying into him," says 18. "I would feel sorry for him, but… he is pretty fucking disgusting."_**

"Right, then. What's the dish? I can see you've got a pretty big plate here."

Buu lifts the lid off his plate, and Gatsby's eyes grow wide.

"My God! Shit!" Gatsby exclaims, looking at a giant cookie with his likeness on it. "This has got to be one of the strangest signature dishes on Hell's Kitchen. Well, then. Let's see how it tastes."

**"_Buu feel pretty confident."_**

**"_Okay, not gonna lie, it looked great," 18 says. "I just have to hope it doesn't taste as good as it looks."_**

Gatsby takes a bite from the giant cookie and nods his head. "Gingerbread. It's very nice. Well done."

"Thank you," says Buu.

"And you?" Gatsby turns to look at Android 18. She takes the lid off- shrimp fried rice.

Gatsby tastes it. "Well, it's… nicely seasoned, cooked perfectly, but for a contestant on Hell's Kitchen, I was looking for something more… spectacular. The point goes to…"


	3. Day 1, Signature Dishes Part 2

**Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and Hill's Kitchen, the Hank Hill-fronted version of Hell's Kitchen, are not my intellectual property.**

**(Bold: Narration)**  
(Regular: Description, present dialogue)  
_(Italics: Flashback/preview)  
__**(Bold Italics: Contestant Interview Section)**_

"The point goes to Buu. Well done, men's team."

(Men: 1, Women: 0)

"Buu thank you."

"_**BUUUUUUU!" confesses Buu.**_

"Okay, next up, let's get Baba and Goku please."

**Now it's up to Goku to keep up momentum for his team and Baba to bring her team back from 18's mediocre performance.**

"What the hell...?" Gatsby notices Baba floating on her crystal ball, dome in hands. "Madam, can you use your legs?"

"Yes, chef, but I wouldn't be able to see over the table."

"She's small," Goku pipes up.

"He didn't ask you!" Baba snaps.

"Fuckin' hell," sighs Gatsby. "Fine. Present your dish, please."

Baba lifts her lid off. "I have here a roasted tail of T-Rex with brussels sprouts."

"T-Rex?" Gatsby asks. "Are you fucking around?"

"No, chef."

"Is this a joke to you?"

"I don't understand what you mean."

Justin feels the need to interfere on Fortuneteller Baba's behalf. "Chef, erm, T-Rexes still exist in this part of the world."

"I'm aware of that," Gatsby immediately replies, "my point is that it's nearly impossible to cook a tail of T-Rex in just 45 minutes. It's a very slow, delicate process. Either you," he turns back to Baba," are a culinary genius or totally full of shit."

"_**It was kind of mean for the chef to say those things about Baba," says Goku. "I think her T-Rex tail is awesome!"**_

Chef Gatsby cuts a chunk from the tail and bites into it. He chews furtively. "This…"

A dramatic pause.

"This is surprising to me. You've pulled it off." Baba does an inward fist pump. "But I'm seriously going to go check the tapes after all this to make sure you weren't cheating somehow."

"_**In all my years, I have never felt so damned offended!" Baba snarls. "I know Chef Gatsby's very respected, but that's something I can't put up with for long!"**_

Gatsby puts the lid back on Baba's dish and addresses Goku. "Okay, what about you?"

Goku nods, determination striking his face suddenly. "I made a roast!" He lifts the lid, and indeed, there is a roast. It's one of those deals like in old cartoons, a big cylinder of meat with a bone sticking through it.

"Alright. Where's the garnish?" Gatsby asks.

"What's that?" Goku responds. "Is that like one of those leaves fancy restaurants put on the meat?"

Chef Gatsby looks long and hard into Goku's eyes. "You have so much to learn, I wonder if you should even be here."

"I'm a fast learner," Goku smiles. "All you have to do is train me and I'll easily surpass you!"

Gatsby's face tightens up. His forehead wrinkles become so pronounced, he looks like he could reach in and grope all his brain's "fuck you". "Are you looking to be the fastest exit in Hell's Kitchen history?"

"Well, I am pretty fast," Goku says. "Wanna race?"

"…Let's just taste your fucking dish already." Chef Gatsby cuts a piece of the roast off with a fork and knife, to Goku's protest. "No, you're supposed to eat by picking it up by the bone and-"

"Look here, dickface," Chef Gatsby growls as Vegeta looks on with delight, "I've had about enough with your chippy, bullshit attitude. I'll taste the dish, you stand there and pay attention."

"_**Man!" Puar squeaks. "I've never heard someone talk to Goku like that before!"**_

"_**I was ready to quit after that, I'm not gonna lie," says Yamcha. **_

Gatsby takes a bite and chews. Despite Vegeta's greatest hopes, he doesn't spit it out. "Bland. Undercooked."

"Awww…"

"Back in line, both of you. Women get the point."

(Men: 1, Women: 1)

"_**I still think it looked fine," Goku shrugs. "I knew I probably couldn't beat Baba, though. She's awesome!"**_

"Launch, Hercule, step forward. You're next."

"_**I was so nervous when Chef called me up," Launch says. "All I could think of was how many things I might have done wrong…"**_

"Hercule, let me just say, it's an honor to have you here," says Gatsby, who unfortunately has yet to realize how phony the guy is. "What's your dish?"

"Thank you, sir. I made a steak and some fries." He lifts the dish, and indeed, that is what he made. "Hrm. Very simple dish, presentation-wise. It's more diner food than fine dining, yes?"

"Yeah," agrees Hercule, "but it's my signature dish."

Chef Gatsby takes a bite of the steak. He has a visibly difficult time chewing the thing. "It's very, very tough," he says after swallowing. "Like biting into a piece of leather."

"I've always cooked it this way," says Hercule. "Never had a problem chewing it, myself."

"_**He just wanted to make it look like those other losers had a chance," Hercule boasts. "He knows I've got this in the bag! BWAH HAH HAH HAH!"**_

"Right. Well, you take back your rubber fucking steak. Launch?"

The blue-haired woman lifts her lid. "I made a puffer fish with plain white rice."

"A… puffer fish?" Gatsby says in a low tone. "You make this one very often?"

"Uh, a few times, yes," Launch says.

"Fuck me senseless," he groans. Launch looks mortified. "I-I will do no such thing!"

Chef Gatsby's brows tighten. "I wasn't talking to you."

"Okay…"

"Now, I'll be honest, I don't even want to taste your dish. But, I feel that it is unfair to-"

"If you die, we can wish you back with the Dragonballs!" Goku declares. Gatsby looks at him intensely. "What the fuck are those?"

"Uh, sir, don't worry about him," Justin says in an attempt toward damage control. "He just-"

"Would you mind?" says Gatsby. "I asked him, not you."

"Well, you see…" Goku spends five minutes describing the Dragonballs in detail as Chef Gatsby looks at him as though black fluid were spewing out of his mouth.

"…and that's how we revived everyone on earth!" Goku finishes. Gatsby, who'd already tasted the pufferfish while the Saiyan was talking, shook his head silently. "Young man, be very glad I'm forced to only remove one contestant per day. Otherwise, you'd be gone. The best dish is…"

**TBC**


End file.
